


Walking By Moonlight

by DictionaryWrites



Series: The Serpent's Gaze: A Slytherin!Harry AU [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Guilt, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-06-09 03:16:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6887572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Begins in the third year of The Serpent's Gaze.</p><p>Remus is desperately glad that Sirius has been released from Azkaban, but the both of them have new feelings to be concerned with as they approach each other. They've always been friends but absence makes the heart grow fonder in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Remus walks into Hogsmeade with his copy of that morning's Daily Prophet hanging limply from his right hand. It's not yet nine, and the children won't make their way into town until around ten or so: Remus had been glad to excuse himself from breakfast that morning, and he'd offered a quiet explanation to Minerva as he'd slipped from the Great Hall.

SIRIUS BLACK PARDONED, the paper declares. SIRIUS BLACK PARDONED, it seems to scream at him. There's a sick heaviness in Remus' chest, and he stares blankly forwards as he walks slowly down the bath towards the gate. The wind is biting, and he welcomes the sting of it in his eyes and on his skin as he moves, welcomes the punishment.

The last few days blend together in his mind, a sick blur of Peter bound in ropes, Minister Fudge stumbling over his words, Severus as furious as ever... And Harry.

Harry had been so cold as he'd pulled up Peter's sleeve, showing Fudge the Dark Mark on his arm. Remus pulls the gate open before shutting it beside him, and he walks into the village. Remus has never seen such a young boy show such venom, such focused rancour, and despite the way it had horrified him, it could not possibly have horrified him as much as much as his own actions in this terrible mess.

Remus feels stupid, ashamed, guilty: he'd believed Sirius was the traitor, believed for all these years that he deserved to be in Azkaban, and all that time Peter had been a Death Eater. He's too exhausted, too hurt to cry - he just wants to slip quietly into the Three Broomsticks and settle himself in the corner of the room, out of the way. Peter's to get the Dementor's Kiss, and the thought doesn't even hurt him: it satisfies him to know that his old schoolfriend, the old traitor, is to receive a fate worse than death.

"Hello there, Remus!" Rosmerta says as he enters, and Remus offers her a weak smile. She looks as if she wants to chat about Sirius, or Peter, or anything at all, despite the bags beneath his eyes and his hanging shoulders, so he speaks quickly.

"Two fingers of Schletters, please," he murmurs. "And a cup of coffee." Rosmerta stares at him, her pretty eyes widening in surprise, but she reaches behind her for the glass of whiskey and pours it before she begins to boil water for the coffee. Remus takes the tumbler, making his way across the room and settling himself into a corner. He drinks the whiskey slowly, feeling it burn his throat: he barely ever drinks alcohol, let alone before ten in the morning, but he needs it now.

He sips slowly at it, and by the time Rosmerta puts a mug and a steaming pot of black coffee beside him, the tumbler is empty. "Thank you," Remus says quietly, and he feels the relief run through his body as Rosmerta leaves him be. The Three Broomsticks is utterly deserted, barring Rosmerta herself, but Remus knows that's only because the locals know the children will be coming down from Hogwarts soon.

Remus sits at the table in the Three Broomsticks for a fair while. He rehearses what he'll say to Sirius, when he sees him, how he can possibly apologize, how he can possibly make it better... But how can he? Sirius has been in Azkaban for twelve years, and even Remus had thought him a traitor. Silently, Remus broods over his coffee, taking slow, measured sips. At eleven or so, a few of the students begin filtering into the room, and Remus drops the right coins on the table, turning up the collar of his tattered coat and going for a walk.

The green fields and wooded copses around Hogsmeade are as beautiful as they were when Remus was still a student at Hogwarts: he walks under leafy trees, feeling leaves crunch wetly beneath his shoes, and he breathes in the scents of the woods. He remembers being a young man, still, running and wrestling with the others on these very paths. He sees the big tree James had tangled his antlers in one April evening, and the pond Peter had fallen into on a Hogsmeade outing the same year.

Remembering makes his chest ache, and he turns, beginning to walk back up to the castle.

He needs to write to Sirius, he decides. He'll write him, offer to come and meet him, or- Remus stops in the middle of the street, watching. Harry, sneaky little Harry Potter with his mother's eyes and cunning tendencies, is laughing with a man with long, dark hair. "Sirius!" Remus feels himself call, and just saying his name makes Remus feel like he's dying. He turns, and Remus stares at his old friend's lined face, his bright eyes, and his horrifically ugly outfit. He wears black, ripped jeans and the floral shirt Remus had bought him the first Christmas they'd had with Harry, thinking Sirius would view it as the joke it was, and atop it all is the leather jacket Remus remembers him stealing when Lily found it was too big for her. "Merlin's beard, you're not wearing that."

It's been twelve years since he's seen Sirius toss his hair in that facetious way of his, and he doesn't even say what Sirius says to him: he just laughs, and he stumbles forwards, towards him. Sirius comes forwards, and Remus throws his arm around the other man, holding him as tightly as he can manage: he feels his eyes wetten slightly, and he presses his face to the side of Sirius' neck, breathing in. He smells of shampoo and cologne, and Remus holds back a sob as he holds the other man close to him. "I'm sorry," he whispers into Sirius' ear. "I'm so sorry, I thought- I thought-"

"No, it's alright, Moony, I know, I know," Sirius murmurs, and when he pulls back he puts his warm, warm hand on Remus' cheek, looking directly into his eyes. Remus feels the breath leave his chest when Sirius smiles at him, and he lets the other man half pull away, his arm still around Remus' shoulders. He barely hears whatever Sirius and Harry say to each other - he knows he should ask, question and query how they could possibly have met, have known each other, but all he can think of is that Sirius is beside him.

Remus should feel guilty, but he has been alone for so, so long, and now he has a friend beside him once again.

\---

Remus waits anxiously outside of the hospital wing, crossing his arms tightly over his chest in the hopes that it will keep him from pacing. It doesn't. He only feels the slightest bit relaxed when Sirius comes out of the infirmary, and he reaches out, patting Remus' shoulder. The two of them walk together through the halls, and Remus glances at Sirius as they move towards his quarters: they'd barely had time to order their drinks before they'd been called outside to see Harry, and Sirius had gone off for an appointment not long afterwards.

"You're sure I can stay?"

"Of course," Remus says, nodding his head. "Dumbledore's fine with it." Sirius nods his head, and Remus pushes open the door that leads to his quarters from his office, gesturing for Sirius to come in. It's simply decorated in tans and browns: Remus hadn't bothered to change anything, and he sits down on the sofa, leaning back so that Sirius can settle beside him.

"Harry's going to come and live with me," Sirius says, beaming. He's positively beatific when he smiles, despite the new lines and sense of haggardness to his face, and Remus can't help but smile back. "I've just sorted it all out."

"You've already met him, then." Sirius laughs, shaking his head.

"He's a little bastard, isn't he? A sneaky little bastard?"

"Oh, yes," Remus agrees, nodding his head.

"He's been bringing me food, in the Shrieking Shack. Set up a tent for me. I went to find him this summer, in Little Whinging." Sirius begins to talk, gesticulating the way he always used to, moving his entire body just to tell a simple story, and Remus watches him. He stays silent, enjoying the fact that Sirius can fill the silence - he's missed having someone there who can so easily fill a room with his warmth, his passion, his words, and he lets himself melt into Sirius' flowing speech.

\---

When Sirius finishes, Remus feels overwhelmed with it all, with the young man's focus and his dedication - by no means has he cultivated a dislike of Harry, but he has developed a caution of sorts where James' son is concerned. It's obvious on Sirius' face that he's got a lot of affection for his godson's person, and Sirius asks, "What d'you make of him, Moony?" Remus considers the question, pressing his lips together for a few moments.

"He's very manipulative," Remus says finally. He says it plainly because he knows Sirius won't be offended or worried by the description - if anything, Sirius seems pleased. "The first time I talked to him he recognized me from some photos people had sent him."

Sirius nods his head, and says, "Yeah, he's shown me some of his albums. Good photos of you." Remus laughs a little, shaking his head.

"Well, he recognized me, asked if I'd gone to school with James. I answered yes, and... He said well, in that case, you must have gone to school with Sirius Black as well. You know what he said after that?" Sirius shakes his head, and Remus quotes, "Guess you were lucky he went after Pettigrew before he went after you, sir, or we wouldn't be having this conversation." Sirius' laugh is shocked.

"The cheeky sod!"

"I thought he was just being cruel for the sake of it, but he did apologize afer. And if he'd met you already..."

"He was trying to shock some information out of you." Sirius laughs again, shaking his head. "He's really not like James, is he?" Remus would expect Sirius to sound disappointed, but he doesn't, not really. "They look so alike, and I thought they'd be the same, personality-wise, but... Merlin, he's his own little wildfire."

"I think he's like Lily," Remus murmurs, and Sirius nods his head, giving a rueful little chuckle. "He has her charm, her tendency to engineer a situation the way she wants it to go."

"He a good wizard?" Sirius asks.

"Incredible for his age. He's making progress with the Patronus Charm." Sirius whistles quietly, looking away, and he smiles slightly. Reaching out, he puts his hand on Remus' knee, patting it as he looks fondly into the middle distance. He shouldn't, Merlin knows he shouldn't, but Remus feels a twinge of excitement at the touch: he's never been attracted to Sirius in his life, never, but looking at him now he feels something twist in him.

He looks at Sirius' chapped, tired lips, and he wants to kiss them.

The guilt flows ever heavier.


	2. Chapter 2

"Stop hesitating," Sirius says firmly, watching Remus as he hovers awkwardly in Sirius' hallway. He looks so small, these days - he's still taller than Sirius by several inches, but he's so skinny and lanky, even compared to him, and it annoys Sirius a little. He remembers Remus at school, a little on the thin side but able to stretch himself out, take up whole sofas and whole beds with a wolf's loping sprawl, but now?

Remus makes himself smaller. He ducks his head, he slouches, he presses himself into corners and against walls, and Sirius hates it. He hates it, and he wants to pull Remus into the middle of the room where he belongs, stand proud like they'd used to.

Fifteen years ago, they'd used to.

"I'm not hesitating," Remus lies, as if Sirius can't see it in every thread of his ugly, patchy clothes and the lines on his face. "Are you sure he's alright with this?"

"He's fine!" Sirius assures the other man, even though he knows it isn't true - Sirius was always a better liar than Remus, and it still holds true. Still, Remus is good at bartering, and Sirius wants him with him and Harry as they look for new furniture. It excites him to be able to buy things, useful things for his godson, take care of him the way Lily and James would have done, and he's desperate to get out of the house.

It feels utterly natural once they're out into Diagon Alley: he and Remus have had only a little time together over the past few weeks, with Remus holed up teaching little sods at Hogwarts, and walking side-by-side with Remus is good. It's perfect, actually; Sirius strolls with his hands in his pockets, Remus beside him, and it feels just like it should - except that James should be on Sirius' other side, and Peter and Lily should be beside them.

He grits his teeth, shifting his head to watch Harry. He's looking up at a broomstick on a display, a Firebolt, and Sirius asks, "You want one?"

"No, thanks," Harry says automatically, like it's a bloody reflex, and Sirius frowns. He wants to buy the world for his godson, and for some reason Harry keeps focused on not letting him.

"What about a motorbike, eh? Get you on a nice Yamaha, out on the road - I'll mod it up for you like my old one. That makes Harry's head turn, his expression excited, but Remus shoves him in the side.

"Not until you're seventeen!" Remus says sternly, and Harry laughs. Sirius frowns at him, and he's surprised to hear Remus scolding him, but despite himself he grins. "Are you mad? He's thirteen, Sirius, you can't offer him a motorcycle, and besides, it's dangerous, and the law's changed: it's illegal. Do you want to go back to Azkaban?"

"I've missed you, Moony," Sirius says, putting his hand on Remus' chest and patting his sternum affectionately.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Sure," Sirius lies, and Remus huffs out a noise, shaking his head. His sandy hair is turning grey, and Sirius wants to run his hands through it and see if Remus still uses the cheap, nutty shampoo with the Bowtruckle on the bottle, but in the middle of Diagon Alley it'd cause a few glances. He lets Harry go off to choose his furniture, and he stands with Remus, trying to think on what's different.

There's a lot that's different about Remus. He's older, and it shows, and he's greying; he laughs less and he smiles more, talks more confidently but more quietly; he's more serious, and he looks tired. He always looks tired. There's something more to it, though, and something less: Remus is on Sirius' right, where James used to be, instead of on his left, and there's something more.

Sirius wants to bite him.

Sirius is not unaccustomed to his more animalistic urges, with a decade having been spent in a dog's form, but this isn't the simple instinct of a baser creature: Sirius wants to bite Remus, and see the mark show at the collar of the other man's robes. Sirius had done that, once, to a Ravenclaw boy a year above him with girlish lips and a cock like a Greek statue's: he'd pinned the boy down on the floor of an empty classroom, bitten him and told him how small he was, how pretty, how Sirius wanted to fuck him until he cried.

The boy had cried. Sirius had laughed at him for it, and when he'd come it had been with shakes and sobs: Sirius had shagged that boy a few times, until he'd finished his NEWTs. He'd been the only man Sirius had ever shagged at Hogwarts, but Sirius had enjoyed the taste and the chase - he's had other men in Muggle motorcycle shops, in clubs...

He's never wanted to fuck Remus. Remus had never even crossed his mind in his youth: of course Sirius had been aware of James' muscle, Remus' skinny, pleasant body, Peter's surprisingly hairy chest, but none of it had ever enticed him, and now? Sirius looks at Remus' few grey hairs and wonders what it would feel like to pull them, wants to straddle his body and make him moan in his low, hoarse voice, wants to take Remus and own him like he's owned so many people before, wizards and witches alike.

It niggles at Sirius, twisting uncomfortably in his belly: Harry should be his focus, Harry should be his world, but Remus distracts him, and Sirius wants to drag the werewolf into his sphere once more, as well as into his bed.

"Stop looking at the prices," he barks at Harry to distract himself, and he hates the look Harry gives him. Raised by Lily and James, he could have been bought the whole shop, and wouldn't have complained - Sirius doesn't want Harry to feel the need to be thrifty, or be over grateful. Sirius hates it, wants Harry to feel happy taking the world.

He ignores the glance Remus shoots him, and keeps his gaze on Harry.

\---

Sirius feels stupid later on. He'd invited Remus to the Christmas Gala at Malfoy Manor, and had completely forgotten the full moon that would be shining over the gardens that night - it will be the last night of the full moon, and although Remus had already agreed to come to Sirius' flat for Christmas Day, Sirius doesn't like to think of him alone at Hogwarts in his wolf form, lying alone on his bed. It's incredible to him, that the Wolfsbane Potion can soothe him so, make it possible to keep his mind, but in some ways it makes it worse.

At least the wolf would not remember to be lonely.

Remus helps him lay out Harry's new furniture and the wallpaper, and they work with nothing but the sound of one of Sirius' records playing on Harry's turntable; the lack of conversation is normal, comfortable, and in the next room they occasionally hear snippets of Harry's conversation with Hermione on the phone.

Sirius stands back to admire their handiwork, and he reaches for Remus as the other man stands behind him, sliding his hand around the other man's waist. Remus laughs into Sirius' hair, and Sirius doesn't think he imagines the way the other man breathes in slightly. They laugh together, leaning into each other, but this isn't like it had been when they were both nineteen. There's a tension between them, a sort of stiffness, and Sirius leans in the slightest bit more.

He leans up, holding Remus a bit tighter, but the other man coughs and pulls away: he pats Sirius' back, and Sirius feels his stomach abruptly twist as he looks at the other man.

"Moony-"

"I should get going," Remus says hurriedly. "I'll see you on Christmas Day, alright?" Sirius watches him, and he feels the apology tingle on his tongue, but he doesn't send it forwards: Sirius has never been a man to apologize quickly, or at all, and he hasn't even done anything yet to apologize for. He wants to. He wants to desperately.

He lets Remus go, and he gets Harry in to admire his new bedroom: he thinks of Remus, but he doesn't make it clear.

\---

Remus walks hurriedly up the path towards Hogwarts. He can feel his skin prickling painfully as the full moon comes closer, and a sick feeling coils in his chest as it always does: he struggles to ignore the sensation of coming pain, and he hurries up and into the castle.

"What a late hour," comes a low voice as Remus enters the entrance hall, and he glances to Snape. The other man stands in the doorway down to the dungeons, his arms crossed over his chest, one of his eyebrows raised.

"If only you could take points from me, Severus," Remus says, doing his best to make his tone dry. He doesn't want Snape to detect even the slightest bit of upset in him, not when the other man can be so utterly vicious, even after all these years. "I'm sure you'd love to."

Snape hums, an irritated sound, and when he slips off into the corridor Remus doesn't even hear a footstep - he's sure the other man must have some enchantment or other in the soles of his boots, but he hasn't yet worked up the courage to actually ask. The question, as seriously as Remus wants to ask it, is one that could be easily bet with ridicule if not posed in the correct way.

He walks quickly to his office, closing the door behind him and slipping into his quarters. He doesn't bother to take off his shoes or his cloak: he simply flops forwards and lies limply on the sofa, his legs hanging off the end. Today, with Sirius, he'd felt... Tall.

Remus is a tall man, but he hasn't felt like this for years upon years, hasn't had a man leaning into him, a man Remus could so easily lay his chin on the head of: James had been more like Remus' height, and Sirius and Peter had always been shorter, but Sirius makes Remus feel tall in a way that comes down to more than his height. Remus feels full of life, of energy, when he has Sirius beside him.

He hasn't felt like that in so long, and he wishes he could just accept the sensation of fulfillment, of friendship, once again, but the feelings are corrupted by baser needs. Remus sighs, unbuckling his cloak and lying on his side on the sofa, pressing his face into its arm and closing his eyes tightly.

He hates feeling as powerless as he does right now, but there's no way to avoid it without avoiding Sirius himself, and he'd die before he lost Sirius again.

\---

His bones ache. His skin aches. Even his nails, his teeth, his hair, are vibrating with a sort of quiet, background agony. He sits in the corner of the room in Sirius' living room, settled beside his modest Christmas tree, and even the scent of the thing's pine needles makes his body scream with overstimulation and added pain: the scent of the tree rings through him, and he winces when he hears a clatter in the kitchen.

"Are you alright, Sirius?" Remus calls. There's a second clatter, followed by a pause.

"Yeah, fine," Sirius calls back, obviously lying. Remus' laugh makes his torn throat hurt, but he doesn't mind. It's nearly eight in the morning, and although Remus had seen Harry sleepily pad down the hallway in a set of green pyjamas ten minutes ago, he's fairly certain the boy isn't fully awake yet. Sirius comes into the room with rosemary clinging to his collar, and Remus reaches out to pluck it off. It's slightly wet, and Remus laughs as he drops it into an unused ashtray on Sirius' coffee table. "Lamb stew," Sirius says.

"Very Christmassy," Remus says quietly, and he smiles at Sirius. Sirius sprawls beside him, and Remus glances at the other man as he begins to quietly talk about the Christmas Gala last night. He's almost somber: the thought of someone trying to kill Harry is a distressing one, with all that the lad's been through thus far, and the serious tone is a necessity, but moreover...

They speak in small voices to ensure Harry doesn't hear them, and it requires them to lean in towards each other, half a foot between them. Remus can smell Sirius' ridiculous cologne and the fruity scent of his shampoo, see the deep colour of Sirius' eyes up close, and he feels like sighing.

After the full moon, he is overwrought and in pain, but just as he was a relief in Remus' schooldays, drawing him in with his charisma and his humour, Sirius is a relief now. There's no humour now, and Sirius feels no need to charm him after all these years, but Sirius is a comfort nonetheless - Remus only wishes he could press himself against Sirius and settle there.

"Harry will be fine," Remus finds himself saying. "He has you." Sirius frowns, tilting his head just slightly.

"He has you too," he says, as if Remus has somehow missed a crucial detail, and Remus is too tired to argue, too in pain to discuss.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Both of you do."


End file.
